


Derogatory to Common Sense

by watermelloon (linumlea), Yurika



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Cringe, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Singer Georgi, Tattoo Artist Chris, two weirdos falling in love with some difficulties
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-01 09:53:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8619826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linumlea/pseuds/watermelloon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yurika/pseuds/Yurika
Summary: Georgi leads a simple, nice life. Sure, there were a few heartbreaks along the way, but it wasn't that bad.Until, of course, Chris swaggers up to him and says a few very fateful words.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Our very fateful conversation that started this shitstorm 
> 
>  **Yurika:** I wanna ship Georgi with Chris   
>  **Watermelloon:** Nooooooo 
> 
> But then Watermellon said "aight" and then headcanons started flying left and right and in the end, fanfiction happened. 
> 
> Look at our poor life choices. Look at them. Here they are, embodied in a popometti fanfiction. 
> 
>  
> 
> _God fucking damn it._

 "You want to get a tattoo on that smooth delicious pale skin of yours?"  

If not for the people in the saloon Georgi might have screamed, loud, and maybe knocked some sense into the very tall and very blonde man in front of him. 

"Wh- what?" He snarled. The hairdresser tending to him opened her mouth to interject, but the stranger seemed unfazed. He hummed in the back of his throat as he leaned down towards Georgi even more. 

"I guess you did hear what I said." The smirk on top of his lips drove Georgi to the wall, he wanted to rip it off his face, the sooner the better. However, his reputation was no feeble matter and, well, he did not want to search for a new hairdresser who could do his hair the way he actually liked it. 

He gave the man a stinky eye and swirled away in the chair. "Shove off."  

"Chris!" Came from the back of the tattoo parlor. "How many times-" 

A tiny Chinese woman with floral tattoos on her naked forearms stormed up to them and hooked her elbow with the man named -Georgi assumed- Chris, pulling him with her. "Sorry about that, sweetheart," she smiled at Georgi. 

Georgi was more confused than annoyed as he watched them leave. 

"I'll see you around!" Chris called with a wink. Georgi felt a shudder run up his spine. 

"Who was that?" he asked, incredulous. The hairdresser sighed. 

"The new guy. He just started working here. He is, well," she brushed a hair from Georgi's shoulder, "you can see how he is. But he's got talent, I've got to admit that." 

"He is like that to everyone?" Georgi looked with distaste to where Chris was being scolded. The woman was half Chris' height, yet he doubled in shame in front of her disgruntled, accusing finger. 

"Kinda..." 

Georgi only shook his head and then directed his gaze towards the mirror in front of him. 

"So the same as always?" She asked, beginning to soak his hair. 

"The same as always. And could you do a scalp massage as well, please?" 

Xoxoxoxoxoxox 

"What was that again?!" she demanded angrily; Chris ducked his head in guilt, yet with a sheepish grin on his face. "How many times do I have to tell you, you are scaring off our customers!" Her accent was showing when she was angry, her mouth a rifle of syllables. 

"But Madame Gaun Shan, his skin looks unmarked, I just-" 

"Oh, for gods' sake! Stop with that non-sense," she put her foot down, frown distinct between her eyebrows. She was glaring up at him and somehow managed to look threatening with a polka dot bow in her greying hair. 

Christophe would have tried to convince her how that man just now was more than just beautiful; he was gorgeous, with his ink-black hair, shiny black eyes, and built so small and frail. His pale skin was complimenting all these attributes. Christophe just had the growing need to ink his skin, use it as a canvas for his ideas and dreams. 

The black of the ink would bloom on the skin, swirling into concrete images. He sighed dreamily. What he would give to have that man sprawled in front of him in one of the parlor's chairs, or maybe a bed. The room would be filled with the quiet buzzing of the gun and the ink would show slowly but surely on the man's skin, starting off as a dot, smoothly followed by a line until all of it ended up as an image which would suit the man the most. Christophe bit his bottom lip; he was getting too excited. 

He didn't even know the man's name yet. 

Madame Gaun Shaun was close to growling out loud when Chris sighed, her lecturing lost on him. "Go back to work," she said through her teeth, having given up. 

Christophe barely snapped out of his little daydream, he cleared his throat. "Of course," was his short answer before he looked around in the parlor for someone who was either his regular or entirely new to tattooing. 

He rubbed his hands when he saw a timid-looking girl looking through the design catalogues at the front of the shop. Perfect.  

**xoxoxoxoxoxox**

It was a few weeks later that Georgi visited his hairdresser again. What could he say? He liked to keep his hair nicely trimmed, if it got too long -even the slightest bit- it just felt off to leave his home. However, now there was another little problem on hand. Georgi stopped in his tracks when he got a glimpse at the inside of the tattoo parlor through the shop's window. He whirled around to escape, but the terrifying guy has already spotted him and started waving his hand. Why was it that his hairdresser shared the place with a tattoo parlor? 

"Hey there, beautiful!" The man called. Georgi counted to ten with his eyes closed and wished the gods that they might allow him to sink into the ground and disappear. "What's up?" 

No such luck as it seemed. Chris, or rather Christophe as Georgi had found out during his last visit, was already pestering him, having flown out the parlor in an instant. 

"Please leave me alone," Georgi said with resignation. He was _not_ in a mood for Chris' over-the-top personality. 

"Oh please, love." 

"What?!" Georgi's eyes were blown wide with anger. "I do hope your ears hear what your mouth spews, _Chris_ _,_ " he breathed in deep and then out, trying to calm his irate nerves; he really didn't want to cause a scene. "Name is Georgi, if you really have to talk to me - and I really prefer you wouldn't - so at least use my damn name!" He was talking through his teeth, as silent and threatening as possible. 

"You remembered! You remember my name!" Chris brightened. He sounded way too excited for a grown-ass man. 

Georgi gritted his teeth in annoyance. "You are a pain that's why I remembered. Now if you would excuse me I have an appointment with my hairdresser." 

"Wouldn't you rather have an appointment with me?" Chris stopped him, his arm outstretched in front Georgi. Georgi looked down at it then back up at Chris. 

"I'd rather have both my eyeballs penetrated by a needle. Now back off!" Normally, Georgi wasn't like this. So aggressive. But damn that man for his weird personality and his creepy attitude. He just saw him two times and now wouldn't stop bugging him. 

"Aw, spicy," Chris quirked his eyebrow. Georgi made a gagging sound and dived under his arm. "Don't run away!" 

Georgi gritted his teeth again - he really was about to shout, so close, really so close. Yet he just stalked off with big steps and the fastest he could. At least inside the parlor the sweet Chinese woman could rescue him from this insanity. 

But the Chinese woman wasn't there and Chris followed him into the hairdresser's side of the shop. Georgi's face must have given away how he felt about all that because his favorite hairdresser took one look at him and rushed to his aid. 

"Uh, Chris, don't you have a customer?" She said pointedly. He shrugged.  

"Not when Georgi is here, I don't," he said, grinning.  

Shitface, Georgi thought to himself. Why was it that from all the gorgeous people that visited this hairdresser and tattoo parlor Chris decided to stick to him like a leech and suck dry his patience for people in general. Georgi wanted to facepalm, against a desk. Or a wall. Maybe later throw that poor desk against Chris. He grumbled to himself but turned his attention to his hairdresser, smiling rather weakly. 

"Hi," he greeted her trying to ignore the nuisance behind him. Georgi was very pointedly looking anywhere but Chris' direction. 

"So, the usual then?" The hairdresser asked. 

"Yes, the usual, right?" Chris chirped. He leaned on the chair the hairdresser sat Georgi on and smiled over Georgi's head.  

"Chris, for fuck's sake," the hairdresser lost her patience. Both Georgi and Chris looked at her, confused. "Get the fuck out before I call Madame Gaun Shan." 

Chris raised his hands slowly into the air and backed away a step or two. "Anything but that," he said amiably. He caught Georgi's eye in the mirror and winked. "I'll be seeing you!" 

"God no," Georgi said under his breath. He watched Chris leave with a surge of fright – he really did not want to search for a new place to get his hair done.  

In the mirror Chris approached someone sitting in one of the tattooing chairs, waving his hands at the customer's questions. Georgi was very curious how this business was managing to stay upright with Chris working like he had better things to do than tattooing.  

**xoxoxoxoxoxox**

Christophe couldn't believe his luck. That beautiful man was here again and not only that but now Christophe also knew his name! He smiled. This certainly would give a new depth to their blooming relationship. 

He looked down at the design of the next tattoo he was supposed to make. It was a male name, how sweet! A couple's tattoo as it seemed. 

"So, you guys have been together long?" He asked, trying to be chatty like Madame Gaun Shan taught him to. 

"Hm?" The customer, a young man in his late twenties looked towards Christophe. "Ah, yes." A small blush appeared on his cheeks. "Well, it's been a month." He scratched his right cheek with his pointer finger. 

"A month you say?" He tried to sound surprised, or excited; either of these options worked in that context. The hopeful idiocy of some people did not cease to surprise Christophe ever. "It's been working well then?" 

He guided the man to sit down on one the parlor's chairs. Then he began preparing his tools. 

"Yes." A shy smile appeared on the young man's lips. 

Love with all the shy smiles. It made him want to puke all over the place. Why couldn't people be more bound to earth with their wishes and hopes and love. He gripped the gun tighter. 

"The design you chose is nice," he then said trying to direct the conversation in another direction. The youngsters in love were hopeless, absolutely unlike him and his mature feelings. Georgi... Georgi must have been simply shy, and that's why he avoided Christophe. 

He was sure Georgi will be all over him during the next appointment. And then Christophe is going to go wild on his skin.  

**xoxoxoxoxoxox**

Christophe was sitting on one of the parlor's chairs as he waited for a customer. Or rather he hoped to see Georgi again. The man had just wandered off without saying goodbye as Christophe had been tattooing his customer. A sigh left his lips as his eyes wandered to the clock on the wall. He had by now memorized how often Georgi visited this place. Every one or two months. So it was about time that he should visit again. 

Unfortunately, Georgi's favorite hairdresser was on the lookout for Christophe. She watched him, squinting, as he moved around the shop. What was her deal? He got up to get himself some coffee from the back. Just as he put up his coffee he heard the door to the shop open; the light chiming could mean that Georgi finally arrived. 

He stuck his head out through the doorframe immediately and pouted – it wasn't Georgi. He looked at the hairdresser who was just putting away her phone. She nodded at him politely. 

His coffee going cold, Christophe went back into the backroom. The door to the shop opened again, but Christophe sat unmoving, even when he heard a hushed conversation coming from the hairdressers' side. 

He finished his coffee, washed the mug and swaggered back into the main room. He looked up at the door. 

Georgi. 

Georgi was looking at him! 

And now Georgi was running out through the door, speeding down the street before Christophe could move even one finger. 

**xoxoxoxoxoxox**

No. _No._ ** _No._** Georgi _refused_ to accept this turn of events. Maybe he should really look for a new hairdresser, because this guy named _Christophe_ was getting really annoying as time went by, more than even as he was in the beginning because since Georgi's last visit, he had started asking for his mobile number as well. What the hell was going on? Was he really delirious enough to think that Georgi would just hand him his number after he just so decided to stick to his heels like a puppy and always looked like a kicked one when Georgi managed to get away?  

Like hell he would! It had been a long time since he last ran away from someone. Well honestly, it had been just a week that he ran into another direction than someone. But _that_ and _this_ were different. To that time he had run because he was sad and heartbroken and how could have Anya done that to him? His throat felt tight again. Though now he had no time to dwell on that, he had to get away from an insane man, who hopefully was not following him, but he did not dare to look back. 

He risked a glance over his shoulder, slowing down a bit as he reached the corner. There was no one behind him. 

He sighed in relief. Ready to stop running, he started to turn his head and in that moment he smashed into something in his path. 

"F-" escaped him, but he gritted his teeth. His tailbone hurt and his ass hurt and everything was wrong. 

"You alright?" He heard a familiar voice. Georgi froze. Very slowly he looked up. 

Fucking Chris. 

Chris looked truly concerned as he leaned to offer Georgi a helping hand. It would have been charming if it wasn't, well... Chris.  

Georgi slapped the hand away, heaving himself up from the pavement. "I don't need your-" he started and let out a high-pitched squawk. His right leg. He couldn't stand. Oh hell, of course this had to happen, hadn't it? He winced as he stood very gracelessly on one leg and supported himself on some shop window. Great. 

"You say all that, but you are not walking anywhere with that leg," Chris considered him, scratching the back of his head.  

"I might as well try." Was Georgi's only answer as he braced himself on the window and hopped along the pavement. Like hell he would let that clown help him, who knew what kind of thoughts he'd get after that. A shudder went down his spine. 

"Easy, hun. Listen. Just let me help you, to the parlor at least. I won't say anything, promise." Georgi glared at him but when his rather injured foot touched the ground he gasped in pain. His face scrunched up in distaste as he nodded his agreement. 

**xoxoxoxoxoxox**

Christophe's eyes widened first in surprise and then what could be called happiness. He tried to hide it of course and lucky him that Georgi was too caught up with his injury to see the faces Christophe was making. He helped Georgi to find a comfortable position as Christophe put one arm around Georgi's waist to help him keep his balance and with his other arm he held onto Georgi's arm that was put over Christophe's shoulders. Christophe's skin was burning on the places Georgi was touching him. He sucked in his lip and began chewing on it. He was relieved that he hadn't have to say anything because if he were to open his mouth now, who knew what would come out. 

"Why are you like this?" Georgi asked suddenly. They were walking slowly, passing by the shops' windows. Georgi's face was screwed in pain and he leaned heavily on Christophe with each step. 

"Like what?" 

"Creepy," Georgi said. He bit his lip; he was being mean. But Christophe was willing to overlook it, Georgi was hurt after all.  

"You think I'm creepy?" Christophe tried to sound innocently hurt. He saw the short glance from Georgi just for second. It made Christophe's heart ache the slightest bit. He did in fact not want to have that effect on Georgi.  

"Yeah," Was Georgi's short answer. Christophe may have sucked in a breath when Georgi finally looked him in the eyes.  

"Well, now you are just hurting me," Christophe said, his face as straight as he could make it.  

"You harass me in the shop, you harass me on the street and you spew disgusting pick-up lines every two seconds. Oh, no, not creepy at all," Georgi was clearly pissed. "And now I got my foot broken because of you." 

"That one is on you. Who runs on the street without looking where they are going?" 

"People who are trying to get away from the torment?" Georgi suggested. His tone was so dry it made Christophe's skin prickle. What a man, that Georgi, Christophe thought blissfully.  

"Oh god, stop smiling like that, it's making my skin crawl," Georgi forced them both to a stop. He was taking deep breath after breath, his pale skin gaining a sickly green tint.  

Christophe realized that Georgi must have been in a lot more pain than he was letting on. "Lean on me more," he ordered. Georgi closed his eyes briefly and complied. His weight seemed so perfect in Christophe's arms; his fingers itched to explore.  

Xoxoxoxoox 

Georgi was about to throw up, literally. He was feeling rather ill with his foot hurting and, well, the blissful smiles on Chris' face were really not helping him in any way. He was feeling hot on his face and cold in his hands as he was half carried to the parlor. At least Chris wasn't hauling him around bridal style, which in some way surprised Georgi since Chris really seemed to be the type who would be into that. And he sure was muscular enough to carry Georgi around like that. Georgi's eyes widened in disgust and he frantically shook his head to get those damn images out of his head. What the fucking hell? 

"Chris, what did you do?!" 

Georgi's head shot up when he heard the familiar voice of his hairdresser. She ran up to them to support Georgi's other side, asking question after question, words almost slurring. 

"How about you call an ambulance instead of pestering him like that?"  

Georgi squinted his eyes at Chris - that guy really was oblivious to his own actions, wasn't he? 

"Sounds rich coming from you." He then mumbled just so Chris was able to hear him. Chris dug his fingers into Georgi's side painfully.  

Georgi blinked. Oh, wait. 

"No. Wait!" He said quickly. The hairdresser, about to push the green button on her phone stopped mid-gesture. "Don't call the ambulance." 

"Why?" She asked, eyebrows drawn. 

"I've got no healthcare," he admitted. "And I'm not a millionaire." 

They stood in silence, pouring over his words. 

"Well, that fucking sucks," Chris summed up. 

"You don't say, airhead," Georgi pressed out between clenched teeth. "Maybe my foot is _not_ broken. I mean it's swollen and well... I've read if you break a bone it doesn't swell up?" He was worrying his lip as he looked down at it. "But I certainly can't use it." Curse his life. He had a concert the next day, too. 

"I can drive you to a doctor to check on your foot, if you want to," Chris offered. 

Alone. In a car. With Chris.  

"No, thank you, I'm calling a cab." 

"Aw come on. I feel like I have to take responsibility for this." 

"No." 

"I mean taking a cab won't be cheap either, just accept." 

"No." 

"Pretty please?" 

"For Christ's sake no!" 

"I won't talk. No funny business, scout's word." 

"He has a point, you know." Now his hairdresser was also ganging up against him? Why was his life turning into a damn disaster?  

He cast his eyes to the ground and went through his savings in his head, how much he had left for the month. He bit the inside of his cheek when he remembered the new guitare he bought this month. That thing was biting in his ass now, royally. His mind was racing one mile per second as he tried to figure out a way which would cost him as little as possible _without_ Chris driving him anywhere. But eventually he sighed. Defeated. Resigned. He gave up. His mind was screaming _no_ as he turned his head to Chris.  

"Okay." He said. This word began ringing in his ear the second he uttered it. Fuck his life. 

**xoxoxoxoxoxox**

Alone in the car with Chris, Georgi scooted as far away from him as possible. His life hated him to bits, didn't it? Chris' car was a two-seater, not only that it was a ridiculous smart. That thing was like a tin can, squishing them nearly against each other. How did Chris even fit in here? He was rather tall and well built. Georgi swallowed. But he had to live with it... Endure it until they got to n Urgent Care center. 

Chris, true to his word, was keeping his mouth shut. Somehow it was even more disconcerting, perhaps because of the glances he shot Georgi's way. Georgi wasn't sure if he should be ignoring him or watching him warily. He resigned himself to suspicious squinting whenever Chris glanced his way.  

"What?" Georgi scoffed finally, having enough of those glances that were just so thrown his way. Chris shrugged, not taking his eyes off the road – he drove in a surprisingly safe way. 

"It's my first time playing a knight on a white horse," he said. 

"I guess you meant a clown in a tiny smart..." Georgi mumbled as silent as possible. 

"I heard that, princess. Smarts are very economical, I will have you know." 

"Princess? Where exactly do I look like a princess to you?" 

Chris gave him a lingering look that made Georgi cringe. "You know, that milky skin of yours, black hair. May I call you Snow White?" 

"Does this make you one of the seven dwarfs? I mean you _did_ drive this smart for years." Georgi turned his head towards Chris with a mocking grin. 

"I'm big where it matters." Chris winked at Georgi. 

Georgi snorted and then a loud laughter erupted from his body - he was clutching to his sides as he wheezed for air. His vision was blurry from the small tears in his eyes. "Oh god." He gasped as he buckled over until he had to hold onto the board in front of him. "That was your lamest line so far." He coughed and tried to regain his breath. 

"I like it when you smile," Chris said unexpectedly. His voice was soft and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. 

Georgi's breath and obviously also his laugh caught in his throat as his eyes widened and a blush threatened to creep up on his face. "What the-" He muttered but stopped mid-speech. He coughed awkwardly and turned away from Chris and looked out of the window. He shouldn't have talked to him at all. 

The car was silent, until Chris pulled up in front on a small clinic. "Here we are. Let me help you out." 

"Oh, no." Georgi muttered, the blush still very visible on his face. "I got this." He opened the door and swung both of his legs out of the car. His face screwed up in discomfort as he tried to get out of the damn tiny car. He gritted his teeth and huffed when he finally had it! One of his hand was clinging to the car's roof and he really was about to get up - another inch and another one - when his hand slipped from where he was holding onto the car and he landed back onto his already sore ass with a graceless oumph.  

"Frick!" He pressed out between clenched teeth. His tailbone had already been sore, for Christ's sake! 

"Like fuck you do," Chris rushed to help him up. "Stop being so fucking stubborn." 

"Why do you have to swear all the time?" Georgi gritted out between his teeth as Chris once again supported him. 

"I'm swearing for both of us, apparently," Chris grumbled. "Since you have a saint's mouth." 

The walk up the short stairs was a pain. Literally. Georgi was blooming green whenever his foot as much as touched anything. His vision was swimming and tiny black novas of pain exploded below his ankle with every move. When they finally arrived at the doctor's place Georgi sighed in relief. Now the only thing they had to do was talk to the woman behind the reception. He wanted to walk to the reception when he felt how Chris directed him instantly to the waiting room. 

"Uhm, you do know we have to talk to that lady first?" 

"First you sit down. You look like you are going to throw up, the lady will understand why you didn't grace her with the sight of your lovely mug," Chris said as he helped Georgi to sit down. Georgi couldn't see his face as he talked to the receptionist, but strangely enough she didn't seem to be fazed by Chris. She glanced in Georgi's direction once and nodded. 

**xoxoxoxoxoxox**

Christophe had his most charming smile on his lips as he talked to the woman behind the desk. As stern as she looked she did somehow make a face that showed sympathy when Christophe explained her the situation, especially after she heard that Georgi had no insurance. She explained him that it was Urgent Care and they would have to pay right away. Christophe was worrying his bottom lip as he looked at the probable total of the costs. Why the fuck was medical care in the US so expensive anyways? He may have started to grumble under his breath if not for the fear that Georgi might have heard from across the room. He bend over to the lady. 

"Listen, I can pay for him. But I need to visit a bank automat first. Is there one that close to this place?" He whispered more than talked to her.  

She nodded in response. "Just down the street." 

Georgi could only nod when Christophe told him to wait a few minutes. He had his eyes closed as he leaned back in the chair. When Christophe returned from the automat everything went by pretty fast. They examined Georgi and while Georgi was examined Christophe took care of the payment. Then they left with a very confused Georgi and a Christophe with more than mixed feelings about his life choices. 

**xoxoxoxoxoxox**

The Urgent Care center hadn't billed him anything and as far as he could remember you payed first and then got examined in these places. He eyed Chris from the rim of his eyes as he walked with his crutches and tried to stay balanced on them. Then his eyes widened in realization when he was finally seated in Chris' car again since the man insisted on taking him home. 

"You did not." He couldn't believe what he was thinking but that could be the only answer to this rather confusing matter. "Tell me you didn't." 

Chris glanced at him and squirmed in his seat. "I did, so what? You can pay me back sometime. In any way you want," he said with a wink.  

A shudder went down Georgi's back and he turned his head to the road. Fuck Chris for his creepy suggestions, fuck him for being nice but also fuck his life for screwing him over like this. 

"I can't believe this," he mumbled under his breath. Chris even had his address now, who knew what that get him into. 

"Princess, it's not like I'm going to make you do stuff you don't want to do. Just let me be you dream knight in a shiny armor, how about that?" 

"I'm not freakin' Snow White, you absolute fish! Apart from that I don't want to be tied to you!" 

"You hate me that much?" 

Georgi huffed a breath. He turned away, staring out of the window. It had to be enough of an answer for Chris, because Georgi sure as hell wasn't going to reply. He saw the way Chris' grip around the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles turned white, but it was just from the rim of his eyes and he did not pay further attention to it, until he heard Chris' voice. 

"Fuck this. I'm just trying to be nice, you know? I just said, I'm not making you do anything. It would be nice if you paid me back, but I slapped that money down because I wanted to, you understand?" 

"I don't! Why the heck would you do that?" Georgi's eyebrows drew together in confusion and anger, his eyes directed to Chris. 

"Because I'm in love with you."  

Georgi opened his mouth. Then he closed it again. What had he said about Chris being a fish? Well, now _he_  felt like one. He sat there, gaping at Chris while the streets passed by them. "You what?" he asked incredulously. "Dude. That's messed up. We met like what? Three times?" 

"I can't help it! I'm drawn to you!" 

Georgi stared, he did. He might have not even blinked for what felt like eternities. But he still couldn't believe his ears. There was this man, sitting in front of him, telling him how madly in love he was with Georgi after meeting him three times and that not even properly. As far as Georgi could remember this was the first day they actually had a conversation and it had just happened because Georgi sprained his fucking ankle! He opened his mouth to say something but decided against it, he pressed his lips to a thin line and directed his gaze strictly in front of him, watching as the street sped by. 

"Your fantastic white skin, and that sparkly eyes of yours," Chris rambled on. "And you have so much personality, I can't wait to see more of it." 

Georgi turned his face towards the window and looked very pointedly away from Chris. "You are being a creep again," he said matter-of-factly. 

"I'm confessing to you! Baring my soul!" 

"The only thing you are baring is that creepy grin of yours. Seriously, do you even listen to yourself?" 

"Every night in the shower. I have a good singing voice and the echo in the bathroom is very complementing."  

"What?" Georgi squinted his eyes as he turned his head back to Chris. "Why would you tell me your shower experiences?" 

"We can share it sometime?" Chris sounded hopeful.  

"Dude! What the heck..." Georgi's face revealed more of his disgust than it probably should, but at this point he didn't care anymore. He was hurt, he was tired and Chris was making his skin crawl. 

"No showers then. Check. Cuddles?" He looked at Georgi's face again and sighed. "No again, huh?" 

"Look at the road." Was Georgi's curt answer. 

"Oh, look. That's your street. Tell me where to pull over." 

"J-Just let me out somewhere here, I can walk the remaining way." Maybe he should rather _not_ show Chris his apartment complex. 

"So you collapse at the side of the street? Nah," Chris slowed down, apparently waiting for Georgi to give him directions.  

Georgi sighed in defeat. "Here," he then said in a monotone voice. "Park your car here somewhere." 

**xoxoxoxoxoxox**

Christophe rather liked this turn of the events. Georgi might have gotten hurt, but now Christophe at least knew more about his sweetheart. If only he could worm his way into knowing the apartment number, he could drop by sometime to see if Georgi was keeping alive with his sprained ankle.  

He counted the floors in the building. There were four, which meant no elevator.  

"Which floor do you live at?" 

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Georgi grumbled as he opened the door by the passenger's side. He seemed to have grasped the concept of walking on the crutches pretty quickly, given how he hopped out of the car without waiting for Christophe to help him. 

"Listen," Georgi told him as soon as they stood facing each other in front of the car. "I'm grateful for your _help_ ," he hissed out the word. "If you would kindly give me your contacts, I will pay you back as soon as I can. I have a gig tomorrow so I will have some cash at hand. Just tell me how much." 

"Gig?" Christophe latched onto the word, choosing to ignore the rest. "Are you in a band? A musician, huh?" 

Georgi's sharp intake of breath was a clue to how close he was to exploding. "Contact. Info. And how much," he repeated, drawling through his teeth.  

"Where are you performing? Can I come and listen?" 

"Christ, man, are you serious right now?" 

Christophe perked up even more. He liked people with temperament and Georgi was full of that. "Phone number in exchange for the gig place," he gambled. 

"You really don't want your money back, do you?" Georgi looked him up and down. His gaze sent sparks up Christophe's stomach. 

"Give me that and I will leave you alone," he said. He also crossed his fingers behind his back, but Georgi didn't have to know that.  

Georgi closed his eyes briefly. He seemed to have been considering his options. Christophe was pretty damn sure he would give in – Georgi was too honest a soul to just skedaddle without paying back what he owed. He stopped himself from grinning victoriously when Georgi replied after worrying his lip for a while. 

"Queen's Duct. That's where I perform tomorrow." 

"Perfect," Christophe smiled at him. "Do you have anything to write with or should we go to your apartment so I can write the contacts down for you?" 

Georgi, already standing with his phone in his hand, looked rather unimpressed. But it wasn't Christophe's defeat yet. 

"So," he said, after Georgi typed in his number. "Your building doesn't have an elevator. You are going to need help going up the stairs, aren't you?" 

"It's barely the second floor," Georgi said distractedly, his eyes still glued to the screen. Then the realization hit him and he hanged his head a little. "God damn it." 

"You might still need help," Christophe inquired happily. "And I could use some coffee." 

"That's it," Georgi straightened his back. "I'm drawing the line here. Thank you for your help today, I'm too tired to deal with you anymore. Good day to you," he said and turned around as gracefully and daintily as he could with the crutches, still so beautiful in Christophe's eyes. He didn't look back even when Christophe called out after him. 

"See you tomorrow!" Christophe waved a hand. He watched as Georgi limped to the building and disappeared inside.  

Then he remembered. He needs to cancel his meet up with Victor then.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "It all started as a fun crack fic but now we kind of ended up actually taking it seriously, whoops..."
> 
> ~Yurika

It was not supposed to turn out like this. When Christophe mentioned to Victor that he was going on a concert of the loveliest man that graced this earth, he did in fact not want to invite Victor to join him. At least he didn't expect for Victor to invite himself just like that... Not only that but also take his cute boyfriend with him.  

He sighed as he turned on his laptop to look up when Georgi was performing. The other seemed to have forgotten to mention that tiny detail when they were standing in front of the apartment complex.  

A grin soon found its way on Christophe's lips, though, when he began thinking about Georgi and how he would perform, and dreamed about how his voice could sound, if it stayed the same or changed. A dreamy sigh escaped him as he browsed through the homepage of Queen's Duct to see what was planned for the day. 

**xoxoxoxoxoxox**

Georgi was staring at his guitar. The offending object reminded him of the last day more than it should, since it was one of the reasons why Chris ended up paying his medical fee for him. At least he could stand now with the splint if he didn't move around on stage. Maybe he should choose one of the slower songs to play today so that nobody noticed that he wasn't moving around. 

"What's up?" Leo asked as he sat down beside Georgi.  

"Nothin'" Was Georgi's short answer. 

Someone laughed silently from the back of the room. "Actually you don't look like it's nothing," Phichit shouted then. 

Georgi's eye twitched. "Thank you, Hawkeye. Sharp as always." 

"Okay," Phichit raised both of his hands. "You know you play like shit when you are in a bad mood, so calm down, we are just teasing." 

"Then freaking stop, I had a bad enough day!" 

"Touchy," Phichit glanced pointedly at Leo, Guang-Hong grinning next to them. Georgi sent them a thunderous glare. 

"If you have time to stand around and chirp about what is not your business then start preparing for the performance." 

"Geez," Leo exhaled sharply through his teeth. "You don't have to snap at us like that, mister lead singer." 

Before anything could escalate even further Guang-Hong finally spoke up. "What songs do we play today? Since Georgi is injured I think we should change some of the faster songs, don't you think, Phichit?" 

Phichit shrugged. "Whatever the voice of our band says." 

"Let's just play some ballads," Georgi said. "The newer ones." 

"But we haven't practiced them that much?" 

"Should be enough I guess?" Georgi began worrying his lip. They weren't wrong; they still needed to practice them some more. But they couldn't just play songs from their last gig, the audience deserved more than that. 

"Come on guys. We can do this," Leo stood up from where he was sitting. "We need to play at least some new songs and if our singer can't jump around like the love-bird he normally is we can't play anything too catchy." 

Guang-Hong snickered, but looked absolutely innocent when Georgi squinted at him. "I'm going to sit around the whole night then? This is boring," Guang-Hong said. There was a small pout to his lips that disappeared when Leo started ruffling his hair. 

"No can do," Leo spoke up after Guang-Hong battled his hand away. "We have to play at least one faster song, so the flower boy can have his fun." 

"I guess I can go through at least one of those songs," Georgi sighed. He really had sprained his ankle at the best damn time possible. His eyes widened when he remember another detail of his last night. 

Chris was going to come watch his performance. 

 _Oh hell..._ He sometimes wished that he could just drop dead... 

His mood really just worsened the closer the time came for their performance to start. 

"Yuuri!" Phichit suddenly exclaimed. "You came!" A soft laugh was heard. 

It was nothing unusual that Yuuri came to the backstage area before their performance. Phichit always invited him as they were close friends since forever. 

"Of course I did," Yuuri sounded rather apologetic as he spoke on. "I hope you don't mind me bringing guests today as well," a nervous laugh escaped him. 

"No, no! Not at all!" Georgi could literally hear the smile in Phichit's voice. "You told me beforehand, didn't you - and I already said we don't mind." 

"O-okay." 

Then there were steps from what sounded like a group of people. How many friends did Yuuri bring with himself? Georgi looked up to the door and his eyes widened. Oh holy mother of hell. Why was this happening to him? 

Chris had the stupidest grin on his face. Georgi wanted to wipe it off with a dirty rag, but there weren't any around. Unfortunately. 

"Georgi!" Chris said so loudly everyone started staring at him and Georgi immediately.  

"You know each other?" Phichit asked. 

Oh hell. 

"Yes," Chris said, excited. 

"No," Georgi opposed. Yuuri was clearly confused and Victor more than amused. Everyone looked between Georgi and Chris like they were observing a ping-pong match. 

"Georgi," Chris whined.  

"I cannot. I give up. Let me die," Georgi threw his hands into the air. "I want a closed-casket funeral because _t_ _hi_ _s_ ," he glanced at Chris with disdain, " _man_ is going to be the death of me. Please tell my mother I love her." 

**xoxoxoxoxoxox**

Everyone stared, Christophe included, as Georgi proceeded to limp away, cursing the sky and the earth for Christophe's very existence. Christophe should be insulted, but he found it oddly endearing. 

"Uh," one of Georgi's bandmates, a short young boy, started. "What exactly just happened?" 

"He loves me," Christophe sighed dreamily.  

"Are you sure?" Some other guy asked. 

"Oh, definitely," Christophe nodded with full conviction. "Why would he run away from me so often, if he didn't love me?" 

"He- what?" Victor asked. Yuuri was sporting a weird look. Actually, now that Christophe looked carefully, everyone was staring at him. 

"Wait. Wait just a second," a tanned teen Yuuri's age tugged at Christophe's shirt. "Run away? As in, physically run away? From you? Please don't tell me you are the reason he got his ankle sprained." 

"I might be," Christophe cocked his head. "I did help him afterwards, though." 

"I'm no longer surprised Georgi has one of his moods," the teen said to his bandmates. They nodded along, wide-eyed. Christophe really didn't know what the commotion was about.  

"Here I thought it was because of Anya, but _this_ _,_ " A band member with longer hair had started to talk. He was pointing with his gaze towards Christophe. "Actually makes more sense..." 

"Wow!" Victor clapped his hands together. "I didn't know you were so hard on your little crush, Chris." 

'Hard?' Christophe knitted his brows. His look of confusion clearly amused Victor, who started to laugh. 

"You really don't know how to romance people up, do you?" Victor asked with an eyebrow raised and hands on his hips. 

"And you do know?" Christophe asked back. Victor cocked an eyebrow at him and sneaked an arm around Yuuri's waist. Yuuri started blushing furiously and Christophe could only nod with understanding. "Ah, apparently you do." 

"Georgi has a faint heart, you have to be gentle," Victor said. "You know, don't come too hard on him." 

"Is there something like 'coming too hard on someone'?" Christophe asked with confusion. Victor sighed, defeated. 

"Just, don't be yourself and you should be fine with him," he said.  

"That's not good dating advice, Victor," Yuuri chided. 

**xoxoxoxoxoxox**

Georgi's leg hurt pretty badly and so he didn't manage to get away too far. At least he didn't have to hear the conversation anymore, and Chris' annoying mug was out of his sight.  

He eased himself down onto some stray boxes in the otherwise empty corridor and sighed deeply. Why was his life so hard? First the deal with Anya, now Chris had to storm in, uninvited.  

He wondered why he was falling for people so hard only to get heartbroken literal weeks later. And why a weirdo like Chris decided to follow him around. Literally. What else would you call bullying Georgi into giving him the gig location? That man was a disaster on feet. 

He checked the watch on his wrist and let his hand drop. There were mere minutes left until the gig was supposed to start and he was in no mood to sing about the heartbreaks. Rather, he was so irritated, he wanted nothing more but to walk up to Chris, grab him by the collar and throw him out of the building. It was a nice vision, Georgi mused, Chris being thrown onto the pavement and falling miserably on his rotten ass. 

Knowing Chris, he would most probably enjoy that. Georgi shuddered in repugnance. 

He decided he wasn't going to go back to the prep room until he was sure that Chris and his cohort were gone, even if that meant getting Georgi's bandmates irritated at him for being late. There was nothing more Georgi wanted than to not see Chris ever again. Chris was terrible, no good, annoying, a bother and- 

Chris made Georgi laugh, even though he was an ass. 

Georgi brought his head down between his knees and groaned out loud. Why was his life so hard? 

**xoxoxoxoxoxox**

When Georgi went back to the room to fetch his guitar, Chris was of course still there, lingering around in such a pointed manner of a kicked puppy that Georgi actually started to feel bad. 

He decided he had no time to waste on Chris and his pout and just went straight for the guitar, only to be stopped mid-gesture by Chris' hand on his forearm. 

"So," Chris started. His hand was warm. "Good luck with the performance." 

Georgi looked down, hooding his eyes, away from the sight of Chris' staring at him. "Yeah. Thanks," he shot back and freed himself. 

Guitar in his hand, he bolted for the stag -if you could his limping that. He was hoping Chris didn't notice Georgi's red cheeks and slightly puffy eyes. Tears came easy for Georgi when he pondered about his life. Or, specifically, about his love life. 

It was actually for the better that he shed a few tears before the performance. Getting into the mood for the songs was easier that way. It was kind of sad to admit he knew that from experience, he thought. He had to do quite a few gigs right after breakups.  

He was met by his bandmates' unamused glares when he finally limped out onto the center of the stage. He ducked his head at first, under their exasperation, but stood straight when a few people in the crowd started cheering. Phichit's friends seemed to cheer the loudest. Chris wasn't among them yet, it seemed. 

"Finally," Phichit rolled his eyes at Georgi. "Couldn't leave your date alone?" 

"Date?" Georgi frowned. When he understood, his eye almost twitched. "Chris is not my date. And will never be. I'm not that desperate." 

"You will make him sad, Georgi," Phichit whispered back. "He isn't that bad, is he? Doesn't seem to be? Kinda pushy, yeah, but not essentially bad?" 

"He is. The worst," Georgi said pointedly. He was going to ignore those warm feelings that started to take roots in his mind when Chris was around, even if it was to be the last thing Georgi did in his life. 

"What are you two whispering about?" Guang-Hong leaned over his drum set and stared between them, wide-eyed. "What's going on?" 

"Nothing." 

"We are talking about Georgi and his Chris," Phichit explained. Georgi wished he could tape Phichit's mouth shut. That boy chirped gossip so loud everyone knew everything Phichit was told a day later. 

"He is not mine!" Georgi whispered the loudest he could. 

Guang-Hong tilted his head, confused. Georgi was always surprised by how cute that boy could look, even though he acted like a devil incarnate when he really wanted to. 

"Why are you gossiping when we are on the stage? Get your heads into the performance," he told them, scolding. Phichit had the gall to look pointedly at Georgi, as if it was Georgi fault. 

Ooh, Phichit was going to get it when they were done with the gig. Georgi swore to himself he was going to bring out at least a bit of Phichit's dirt into light as a revenge. Even if he currently had no dirt on Phichit, he was sure there had to be something. No one was able to watch his ass carefully enough to not let something slip sooner or later.  

Phichit was going to suffer. A lot. Actually, not that much, just a bit. They were friends after all. So... 

Georgi sighed in defeat. Phichit was Phichit. He was going to have to live with that. 

He nodded at his bandmates. They had the songs to perform. 

The lights were turned down lower, bathing them into a bit of a shadow. The center light came on and Georgi stepped into it, wincing when his foot sent a spark of pain up his thigh. The first notes of the song started to resound in the hall and Georgi opened his mouth to start singing- 

"Georgi! Woohoo! Yeah! Come on!" 

Georgi closed his eyes, resigned. Chris was in the audience. And apparently really wanted to cheer on Georgi. 

This was going to be a long night. 

**xoxoxoxoxoxox**

"How did it go with Georgi?" Victor asked him when Georgi's amazing voice filled the hall. It took a few seconds for Christophe to understand that Victor just asked him a question – he was so focused on the stage and the way Georgi stood with his eyes hooded, his long eyelashes casting shadows on his pale cheeks, that he didn't want to pay half a mind to anything else. 

The tone of Georgi's voice was one of the most beautiful, angelic sounds Christophe had ever heard. 

"What?" He asked distractedly, not tearing his eyes away from Georgi's silhouette. 

"Georgi. Backstage. How did it go?" Victor repeated, grabbing his arm to get Christophe's attention. Displeased, Christophe frowned at Victor. 

"Good. Now let me listen." 

"Oh dear," Victor sighed. Out of the corner of his eye Christophe could see Victor and Yuuri exchanged a knowing look. The implications of that look were no good for Christophe, if he was to be honest with himself. 

"What?" He asked again, irritated. 

"You were yourself again, weren't you?" Victor shot him a worried look. Yuuri's eyebrow went up. 

"Victor, I told you this is not what you should tell Chris." 

"What am I supposed to tell him then?" Victor asked, turning his attention back to Yuuri. "He is shit at flirting." 

"Am not!" Christophe was appalled. 

"Are too," Victor shot back. "Why do you think everyone runs away from you?" 

"Christ, Victor, you don't have to hold back," Yuuri tried to relieve the atmosphere with a light joke. It didn't quite work. 

"Georgi is different," Christophe said with confidence. "It will work out this time." 

"Listen," Victor grabbed Christophe's shoulders. "Georgi needs his space, we told you that before. And you are definitely not good at giving people space." 

"Do we really have to do this right now?" Yuuri was looking around, biting his lip. People were staring at them – they were causing quite a scene, in the middle of Georgi's amazing performance at that. 

"Yes," Victor said. 

"No," Christophe opposed. 

"When do you want to do this then? There will be no better time than now to make Chris understand that his 'flirting' is no good at all. Nobody will take him seriously like this," Victor pointed out. He could be such an ass sometimes, Christophe thought petulantly. 

"Victor, shut your mouth. Why do you have to be like that?" Yuuri put his foot down. "You are being an insensitive asshole."  

Christophe saw the surprised and hurt look on Victor's face - he would have smiled if it wasn't for his own anger that pulled his mouth down. 

"It's not like I fell for you because you acted differently. If someone is going to fall in love then it should be with the true personality of the person in question!" Yuuri said and Christophe saw for the first time how scary Yuuri could get when he was angry; honestly, he was glad he was not on the receiving end of someone's anger for once. 

"Is there a problem?" They all whipped their heads to look at a very tall and very well-built figure of the security guard, standing in front of them with an unimpressed expression on his face.  

"No," Victor said. 

"Yes," Christophe opposed. 

The guard sighed. This was the first time Christophe was getting in trouble in a public place. Frankly, it was way less exciting than people would paint it to be. 

Victor's face was pinched. Christophe thought that all that trouble was worth it if it was going to irk Victor. Frankly, Christophe had enough of Victor's shit for the night. 

**xoxoxoxoxoxox**

Of course, the security guard told them to step outside and cool down if they wanted to continue listening to the performance.  

After they came back inside a few minutes later, Christophe made sure to disappear near the front of the crowd, away from Victor and his annoying remarks.  

Christophe knew what he was doing. Georgi will be his, no matter what Victor thought about Christophe's methods. 

"Thank you!" Georgi said into the microphone. The previous song has ended, and Christophe missed it because of Victor. Christophe wasn't going to confide in Victor about any more details of his romance with Georgi ever again. 

There was sweat glistening on Georgi's forehead and his cheeks and neck were flushed. He was smiling though – Christophe felt it, felt the happiness Georgi felt when he performed. Georgi genuinely loved what he was doing. And Christophe was falling in love with that aspect of Georgi. 

Georgi was standing on the stage, confident, gleaming, a bit distant and ethereal. Out of this world, really. But Christophe had no doubt in his mind that he will be able to grasp Georgi. And when he does, he will not let go. 

Because Georgi was perfect. 

"And now," Georgi leaned into the microphone again after catching a breath. "Something that I waited to sing for you. A brand new song. Here it comes," he took a deep breath. "'Freedom of Heart'." 

Christophe almost forgot how to breathe. 

_Yearning for you night and day,_  
_In this world you forgot._  
_Our memories thrown away_  
_Lonely, sad, left to rot._

It was more than obvious that Georgi was singing of a past break up with how his voice mirrored how he must feel. The way something moist formed at the corners of his eyes and glistened. Christophe simply couldn't tear his eyes away. 

 _The_ _crip_ _p_ _ling_ _pain_ _in_ _my_ _heart_ _,_    
_Stays_ _as_ _fresh_ _as_ _the_ _breath_    
_Of_ _a_ _dark_ _,_ _cold_ _winter's_ _start_    
_That_ _brings_ _sorrow_ _and_ _death_ _._  

It made Christophe wonder for a second, who it was that had caused so much pain for Georgi. He felt anger swell up in his chest, but also pain for how Georgi felt. He was jealous - who was it that played such a great part in Georgi's life that he decided to sing about them? 

 _Once_ _your_ _eyes_ _were_ _my_ _happiness_ _, in_ _this_ _dark_ _age_ _._    
_They_ _let_ _me_ _out -_ _to_ _see_ _the_ _world_ _-_ _from_ _my_ _small_ _cage_ _._  

The refrain showed quite clearly that this person Georgi was thinking about had made him more than happy. Christophe swallowed - he couldn't say the same about himself. Victor was more than right in that regard, as much as Chris hated to admit it. 

 _Oh,_ _once_ _you_ _loved_ _me_ _as_ _I_ _loved_ _you_    
_Held_ _my_ _hand_ _with_ _a_ _smile_ _, so_ _bright_    
_And_ _thought_ _of_ _our_ _love_ _as_ _more_ _than_ _true_    
_But_ _left_ _me_ _up_ _the_ _clouds_ _mid-flight_  

 _I_ _fell_ _and_ _fell_ _, down_ _to_ _my_ _demise_ _._    
_The_ _ground_ _so_ _close_ _,_ _no_ _one_ _there_ _to_ _catch._    
_Deafened_ _your_ _ears_ _to_ _my_ _sorrowed_ _cries_ _,_    
_Walked_ _away_ _,_ _hand_ _stretched_ _for_ _another_ _._  

 _'_ _I would never_ _do that_ _,_ _'_ was what Christophe wanted to shout, _'_ _I wo_ _uld alw_ _ays treasure you jus_ _t as you_ _did with th_ _at person_ _!_ _W_ _hy_ _can_ _'t_ _your hea_ _rt bel_ _ong to me?_ _'_ was the last thing that went through his mind. 

 _Once_ _your_ _eyes_ _were_ _my_ _happiness_ _, in_ _this_ _dark_ _age_ _._    
_They_ _let_ _me_ _out -_ _to_ _see_ _the_ _world_ _-_ _from_ _my_ _small_ _cage_ _._  

The refrain was yanking at Christophe's heartstrings; he wondered if at some point he could be someone Georgi could talk of so fondly but _ma_ _ybe_ not in the past tense as it was in this song. He wanted to be the present. He wanted to be the future. 

 _I_ _begged_ _for_ _your_ _return_ _!_    
_I_ _cried_ _at_ _your_ _feet_ _!_    
_Felt_ _my_ _fragile_ _heart_ _burn_ _,_    
_In_ _this_ _lonely_ _heat_ _._  

 _'_ _Don't say that,_ _yo_ _u are_ _n_ _'_ _t_ _lonely_ _,'_ Christophe began chewing on his bottom lip. It wasn't like Georgi wanted him close as of yet, though. Doubt in his own confidence was sewn because Victor had to say all that shit in the middle of the concert. 

**xoxoxoxoxoxox**

_But_ _you_ _didn't_ _stay_ _,_    
_You_ _only_ _left_ _,_    
_Walked_ _slowly_ _away_ _-_    
_Guilty_ _of_ _theft_ _!_  

Georgi's eyes caught Chris in the crowd. He was tall after all and very distinguishable from the rest of his fans. It was honestly the first time that he saw someone feel with his songs as much as Chris did. He could see it in the way his whole body was tense as he watched Georgi, as if he also tried to convey a message his normally bullshit spewing mouth couldn't. 

 _Once_ _your_ _eyes_ _were_ _my_ _happiness_ _, in_ _this_ _dark_ _age_ _._    
_They_ _let_ _me_ _out -_ _to_ _see_ _the_ _world_ _-_ _from_ _my_ _small_ _cage_ _._  

It was this moment that threw Georgi out of his momentum; he was quite happy that he hadn't had to sing with Leo's guitar solo coming up. He watched Chris turn around and leave the crowd and honestly Georgi was more than confused. He had looked so mesmerized seconds ago - what in the hell happened? If not for being in the middle of the song he may have asked, just may, because what did he care about Chris?  

He was so lost in his own mind that he nearly missed his start. 

 _'I_ _cannot_ _live_ _without_ _you_ _!'_    
_Is_ _what_ _my_ _thoughts_ _carry._    
_'I_ _loved_ _you_ _!'_ _is_ _what_ _I_ _spew_ _,_    
_But_ _my_ _faults_ _,_ _too_ _,_ _are_ _many_ _._  

His thoughts, though normally filled with Anya as he had written this song and practiced it, were a jumbled mess while he tried to get through the song without messing up. 

 _Please_ _return_ _,_ _is_ _my_ _only_ _plea_ _..._    
_My_ _heart_ _still_ _shatters_ _don't_ _you_ _see_ _?_    
_Can't_ _you_ _stay_ _my_ _angel_ _who_ _let_ _me_ _free_ _?_    
_And_ _put_ _us_ _back_ _together_ _until_ _it's_ _only_ _"_ _we_ _"?_  

These were his true feelings - but why was it that right in that moment he just couldn't feel them, couldn't feel the song, couldn't feel the text at all? What was wrong with him? 

 _Once_ _your_ _eyes_ _were_ _my_ _happiness_ _, in_ _this_ _dark_ _age_ _._    
_They_ _let_ _me_ _out -_ _to_ _see_ _the_ _world_ _-_ _from_ _my_ _small_ _cage_ _._  

Georgi was panting as he relished in the cheers from the crowd. His eyes searched for something unknown to him before he bowed down, thanked everyone and staggered off the stage. 

**xoxoxoxoxoxox**

Christophe felt his chest tightening and he whirled in his place where he stood facing the stage. The song was too much. He needed to leave. 

The side doors flew open under his push and he stumbled outside, into the cool air of the night. His heated skin felt like it was being licked by flames. 

He took a few calming breaths. The doors behind him shut slowly, cutting off the sounds of the music and the cheers of the crowd. People loved the song, that much was clear – Christophe wasn't surprised. Georgi was so good. 

But... 

But was Christophe good enough for Georgi? 

**xoxoxoxoxoxox**

Georgi was drinking a glass of milk. It might have been childish of him to still have this kind of a routine before going to sleep, he suspected that much, but who could tell him to stop? Anya? No. Anya wasn't there. Anya had no control over his life now, except for making his heart ache.  

He bit his bottom lip when his thoughts returned to his concert that day. He hadn't been able to concentrate on his new song and honestly, Georgi did in fact not like how that felt. How was he supposed to sing when he didn't feel the lyrics?  

He sighed. And what had been Chris' problem? He had suddenly disappeared, even after the concert was finished he hadn't returned to the backstage with Victor and Yuuri. Not that Georgi wanted to see him or anything, but it was actually odd that he didn't return. Wasn't he the one always trying to get to Georgi?  

Georgi didn't even dare to think about it but he was kind of worried about the man. He did look kind of sad when he walked out of the hall, with his shoulders slumped and his head hanging down - but it could also be just Georgi imagining things. Maybe Chris hadn't liked his performance? That thought annoyed and angered Georgi to no end though, after all it had been Chris who wanted to see his gig. He could at least show the decency to stay till the end of his performance after having caused a scene in the crowd.  

He groaned and put his head between his palms after sitting down on his bed. He heard the faint 'meow' of one of his cats. It was Sniffles. A tired smile pulled at the edges of his mouth. 

"At least you don't change, huh?" He murmured as he ruffled through Sniffles' grey fur. The cat purred in return and rubbed her head against his knuckles. 

She flopped onto her back, exposing her stomach and put her paws in the air. Her pink toe beans caught Georgi's eye and he tickled one of her paws.  

He squeaked, high-pitched, when she dug her claws into his palm and bit his fingers, only to leap from the bed a moment later. 

"You are terrible, Sniffles," he told her. She meowed at him expectantly, another voice joining her. Soon he had a whole chorus of disgruntled cats trying to get his attention. 

"Yeah, yeah," he murmured. He had to feed them. It didn't matter that there was still food in the bowls – if a cat can see the bottom of the bowl, it means it's going to starve, so the human has to fill it. 

He loved his cats, but they could be such asshole babies sometimes. 

With his cats fed and finally quiet, Georgi sat back down. His bedroom was dim, the lamp by the bed giving little light, and the heavy curtains drawn so the lamp outside didn't shine directly into Georgi's eyes. 

He leaned back, letting himself rest after a long day. His thoughts were a jungle – there were lianas he didn't know how to approach, and whole trunks of problems barring the way. He didn't know what to do with himself. 

Anya... Anya was far away. Anya wasn't in his life anymore. 

It was weird to feel that he was starting to get over her. Usually it took him so much longer to forget the heartbreak and the parting of the ways. For a split second he wondered why it was that way - he had really thought that she was special - but now he wasn't so sure anymore. 

She didn't make him feel special. She made him feel out of place. 

It wasn't her fault though, was it? Georgi was aware that he wasn't good with making his feelings come through properly. Or rather, he wasn't good with making them manageable for other person. They always got overwhelmed, because Georgi was so full of everything. So full of feelings he wanted to show, so full of thoughts that he wanted to convey. 

And they were drowning in those feelings. It was just too much.  

Georgi dragged in a shuddering breath. He was too much. He knew that. And yet he got his hopes up time after time, trying and failing to create a connection.  

He threw an arm over his eyes. He was scared. Sometimes he felt like it was all his fault for not trying hard enough. But it wasn't! It wasn't all Georgi's fault! He knew that he was trying his best! 

So why did no one understand? Why did no one bother to stand by him a little longer and settle into a comfortable routine?  

He felt hot tears burning at his eyelids. Georgi really wished he didn't have to feel so miserable all the time.  

Or feel so much. Emotions sucked, especially if you had so many of them piling up until they just never stopped spilling out at every possible occasion.  

He knew that he cried a lot, got angry easily, that he loved too strongly, that his hate sometimes burned his insides and the worst part that his sadness sometimes made him unable to leave his bed for days on end. That's why he also started writing songs and performing them. They made his emotions manageable, didn't allow them to overcome him at once or cripple him too much in every day life.  

He bit his bottom lip. He should probably stop thinking about this before the down spiral began.  

Tomorrow was another day and maybe, just maybe, it was going to be better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "While Yurika was writing this wonderful ballad, I went ahead and created some angst. I don't know why. But Yurika didn't oppose so it stayed."
> 
> ~Watermelloon

**Author's Note:**

> Our Tumblrs for Yuri on Ice  
> [Watermelloon (gays-on-ice)](http://gays-on-ice.tumblr.com/)   
> [Yurika (cuteanxiousbaby)](http://cuteanxiousbaby.tumblr.com/)


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